


The Morning After

by httpdotlarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A whole lotta, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Larry being awkward, M/M, OT5 Friendship, Oblivious Harry, Oblivious Louis, SO MUCH BANTER, a bit of, drunk mistakes, larry stylinson - Freeform, ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-08-30 02:12:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16755895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/httpdotlarry/pseuds/httpdotlarry
Summary: “Shut up. Where was I? Right so, Nick dares Harry to marry you and Harry says, ‘I will if he will.’ You accepted, obviously. Everyone decided that in order to make sure the dare is completed, you two would sign a contract to get married within the next thirty days.”“WHAT?”“This is most definitely the best day of my life,” Zayn added.“Congratulations on your engagement, Bitch!”——Or, the one where Louis wakes up with the world’s worst hangover and contract to marry his best friend. Chaos, bickering, misunderstandings, and love ensues.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so this is my first fanfic ever! I’ve always loved creative writing and I’ve had this idea in my head for a little while, so I figured why not post it. I would love to hear any comments or constructive criticism you have to offer, so please don’t be shy! If you enjoy the first chapter let me know because I have the next couple written already, but I won’t post them if there’s no interest! Enjoy!

-August 30-

On what is now known as The Day That Never Should Have Happened (more accurately, it should be known as The Morning After The Night That Never Should Have Happened, but Louis isn’t one to get tied down in symantec’s), Louis woke to the full power of the sun shining in his eyes, a mouthful of sand, and a tiny person trapped inside his head trying to pound their way out with a hammer. He turned to his right and thanked whatever gods may be that he had remembered to place two Advil and a gatorade on his bedside table the night before. 

 

“I’m about three thousand percent sure something crawled in my mouth and died last night. Sincerely, my own mouth has never tasted this repulsive, I’m tempted to cut out my own tongue.”

 

Louis jumped slightly at the sound of his best friend’s voice before he groaned out a reply. “Just go brush your teeth, Z. And make me breakfast while you’re up, thanks.”

 

“The teeth brushing isn’t a bad idea, but you’re on your own for breakfast unless you want some of my famous runny scrambled eggs on burnt toast.” He grimaced, which was most likely the closest thing to a smirk he could muster at that moment, then rolled out of the bed and shuffled to the bathroom. 

 

Louis braced himself or a few moments before slowly leaving his cocoon of blankets and trudging into the hallway. Passing the bathroom, he glared at Zayn. “Why must you be so useless in the kitchen?”

 

“Why must you be such a bitch?” Zayn responded, the words coming out garbled around his toothbrush. 

 

Louis rolled his eyes and walked to the kitchen. He opened her fridge and stared at its frankly inadequate contents. “Perfect,” he muttered. A shrill ring cut through the silent apartment, causing the little dude with a hammer to pound harder at Louis’s skull. 

 

“Answer the phone, my head is about to explode! Jesus fucking christ!” Zayn shouted helpfully from the bathroom. 

 

“Sure thing princess!” Louis replied, grabbing his phone off the kitchen table. Sliding his thumb across the screen, he answered, “This better be really fucking important because if it’s not I’m going to personally murder you with a spoon.”

 

“A spoon?” Niall’s voice giggled through the speaker. 

 

“Yeah, a big one. It’ll be excruciating. What do you want?”

 

“How bad is your hangover?” Niall’s giggles were unrelenting.

 

“You called to ask me about my hangover? You’re an evil human being, Niall Horan. Scum of the earth.”

 

“So not great, I’m gathering.”

 

“Gee, I wonder what gave you that idea,” Louis responded flatly. “Does this conversation have a point?”

 

“How much do you remember about last night?”

 

“Stop answering my questions with more fucking questions.”

 

“Can you forget that you turn into the world's most fantastic cunt when you’re hungover for like two minutes? How much do you remember about last night?”

 

“Not very much, Nialler,” Louis said exaggeratedly sweet. 

 

Zayn entered the kitchen looking far more put together than was even remotely fair given how shitty Louis felt. Give that boy five minutes in any bathroom and no matter how he looks going in he’ll come out like a Greek god. Louis has seriously considered the likelihood of him being some kind of witch. At this point he’s about fifty-seven percent sure it’s true. “Is that Niall? Tell him I’m never letting him talk me into ‘trying something new’ at a bar again. I think I’m sweating vodka,” Zayn proclaimed as he went about starting a pot of coffee. 

 

Rolling his eyes—something he seems to do quite a bit when it comes to Zayn, why is he friends with him again?—Louis began to relay his message to Niall. “Z thinks he’s sweating vodka.” He switched the call to speakerphone so Zayn could hear Niall’s response. 

“Yeah I heard him, whatever we drank was created by someone who has a vendetta against brain cells. We both only had one, and _I_ can feel it. You, however, had at least four of whatever the fuck those devil drinks were plus a whole-ass bar’s worth of beer. Seriously, you drank them out of business. There is no alcohol left in that bar.”

 

“You’re exaggerating.”

 

“I’m truly not, Zaynie back me up here.”

 

Zayn took a break from inhaling his coffee to contribute, “Yeah, Lou you went a little overboard last night. I don’t remember much but I know you had way more than I did.”

 

“Exactly, and Z is the worst lightweight in the galaxy, which is why he doesn’t remember shit even though he had less to drink than I did. For once that is an incredibly exciting fact, because I have the pleasure of telling you both how Louis’ night went, and seeing your first reactions,” Niall said joyously.

 

“How are you gonna see our reactions?” Zayn asked as Louis yelled, “What are you talking about, Horan?”

 

“All will be explained, Louis dear. Now buzz me up, I’m outside your building. It’s hot as fuck, I feel like just went swimming in a pool of lava,” Niall said loftily before ending the call.

 

Zayn walked over the intercom to let Niall into the building with a small grin on his face. Louis poured himself a cup of coffee—black, because that is its intended form, _thank you very much_ —as he attempted to remember what Niall could be talking about. The harder he tried the think, however, the worse the hammer in his head hit, so he gave up fairly quickly. Niall was right, whoever came up with the recipe for those drinks had something against brain cells. Just as he was beginning to revel in the healing powers of caffeine, Niall burst through the apartment door with an exuberantly shouted, “‘Sup bitches?”

Zayn walked over to him and laid a gentle hand on Niall’s shoulder as he spoke. “I love you a lot, but when I have a hangover and you act like yourself, it makes me want to choke you. Please turn down the Niall dial a little bit. Maybe a lot a bit. I don’t feel like choking you, but I will.”

 

“Noted. Now, who wants to hear about what Dumbass did last night?” Niall asked with only slightly less enthusiasm. 

 

In response, Louis groaned and Zayn bounced with excitement. They all set up around the kitchen table, Louis and Niall sitting opposite one another while Zayn filled a third seat between them, looking every bit the eager spectator he was. Niall’s eyes held mischief as he cleared his throat and said, “So talk me through how much you remember about last night and I’ll pick up wherever you leave off.”

 

“Okay,” Louis exhaled deeply and began, “Well obviously I remember getting to the bar, and Liam was wearing that glittery sash that said ‘What’s Better Than 24?’ with Spongebob and Patrick laughing on it. I think within four milliseconds of me getting there he had shoved a shot down my throat. Um...I remember dancing for a bit, and then we went over to the table to sit with everybody. I think Perrie made me do more shots with her. A little while after that we had those ‘devil drinks’ and then it all kinda gets fuzzy. I’m pretty sure we played quarters at one point?”

 

“We did. You lost fantastically.” Niall sucked in a large breath before continuing, “This is good, cause our story starts about 30 seconds after quarters ended. So you’re absolutely hammered right, like just completely gone. Nick and Perrie has been kind of egging you on, kept picking you whenever they got a quarter in. We decided we were done with that game, and Liam says he wants to play truth or dare. It’s all normal, we’re all joking around, having a good time. Then of course Nick takes it up a few notches. He asked you and you picked truth—cause you’re lame even when you’re shit-faced—and he goes ‘If you had to marry one person in our friend group, who would it be?’ And you said,” Niall took a grinning pause while Louis wondered how this could lead to anything big. Drunk him probably picked Zayn, right? That would make sense, just say you’d marry your best friend. Louis could handle spending the rest of his life with Z.

 

“Get on with it, Horan.”

 

“You picked Harry,” he finished while laughing. 

 

Louis felt his face burn red while Zayn hopped up from his chair shouting, “I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

 

“Knew what? There’s nothing to know!” Louis defended. 

 

“Oh please, you went on for at least ten fucking minutes about his eyes! ‘They’re green, but not like an average green, they’re like a stormy green. They’ve got a bit of gray in them. It makes him look more mysterious. Except when he’s excited because then he lights up and his eyes look more emerald green,” Niall imitated. 

 

“I DID NOT SAY THAT!”

 

“Don’t worry, love, it only gets better from here.”

 

“Are you fucking sure?”

 

“Depends on your definition of better, I suppose.”

 

Louis let out a deep groan. “Just get it over with. Rip the band-aid off. Lay it on me.”

 

“So you said you’d marry Harry, obviously the whole table flipped shit. You kept going on about how perfect he is, and I think it was when you were relaying the benefits of marrying a British boy that Harry showed up.”

 

“This is quite possibly the greatest day of my life,” Zayn squealed.

 

“I thought Harry was in England until next week!”

 

“He lied to all of us so he could surprise Liam for his birthday! Now shut up, it’s about to get good! So, you’re talking about the merits of spending your life with a Brit, and you’ve got no idea that he’s standing right behind your chair. At this point the whole table is like buzzing with excitement. And he leans down so he’s right next to your ear and goes ‘Well I’ve got to say, you’ve never sounded smarter, Love.’ And oh my god the look on your face, I can’t even begin to describe it: surprise, fear, excitement, love.”

 

“There was no love! I don’t love him!”

 

“You’re lying to yourself, Lou. Now let me finish my story.”

 

“This shit continues?”

 

“It gets _so much better_. So you’re startled, but apparently very happy cause you jump up and hug him hello. Then you offer him your chair!”

 

“NO!”

 

“YES!”

 

“NO!”

 

“Yes! Now let me finish! He sits down and just casually pulls you onto his lap. So Nick tells him he has to catch up, cause everyone is already very drunk, and he orders a lot of shots. Too many. And about an hour later, Harry’s drunk enough to really get into playing truth or dare. Once again, Nick ends up making the night just so much better. Harry picks dare—because he is the ying to your yang—and Nick dares him to marry you.”

 

“No.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is this story going to end with me blowing my brains out?”

 

“Shut up. Where was I? Right so, Nick dares Harry to marry you and Harry says, ‘I will if he will.’ You accepted, obviously. The bump in the road was when we all realized it’s hard to get married at 3am when you’re smashed out of your mind in Boston. Everyone decided that in order to make sure the dare is completed, you two would sign a contract to get married within the next thirty days.”

 

“WHAT?”

 

“This is most definitely the best day of my life,” Zayn added. 

 

“Congratulations on your engagement, Bitch!”

 

“Nope! Nope nope nope! I am not engaged. I was drunk out of my mind, nothing that happened last night counts!” Louis protested. 

“Counts for what?” Niall managed to ask through his chopping laugh. 

“Life in general! I’ve decided last night should be erased from history, who’s with me?”

Zayn shook his head—he was also laughing, but he at least tried to conceal it, reason number four million why Zayn was Louis’ best friend over Niall—and leveled Louis with a look that was far too real for the given predicament. “Lou, first off last night happened whether you want it to or not. The main point, even if you refuse to admit it because you’re the most stubborn ass on the planet, is that you would be delighted to marry Harry.”

“That is firmly the opposite of the truth.”

“No, you absolute donut, it isn’t! You two have been dancing around each other for six years, you both need to get your heads out of your asses and admit you’re in love with each other.”

“Z, we’re not in love! And how can you even judge, what with how long it took you can Liam to get your shit together?” Louis exclaimed. 

“Lou, are you comparing you and Harry to Zayn and Liam. Zayn and Liam who are in love and have been in a committed relationship for five years? Lo—“

“Wait pause our current conversation for a moment!” Zayn interrupted Niall’s smug speech, “Speaking of the love of my life, why did I wake up next to this dick instead of Liam this morning?” 

“Oh my god I can’t believe I almost forgot!” Niall looked giddy again, which did not bode well for Louis. “After the contract was drafted and signed, Lewis here thought it should be sealed with a kiss.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Louis brought his head down to the table. Hard. “Ouch.”

“Stop interrupting me! I swear someday I’m going to sew your mouth shut. Anyway, Harry quite liked your proposition. He’s the one who actually took it a step forward. I think he was trying to whisper to Liam, but he failed miserably because half the bar heard him say,” Niall slowed his speech and made a solid attempt at copying Harry’s Cheshire accent, “‘Do you think he’d come back to mine tonight? I know we aren’t married yet but I’d quite like to consummate the concept of marriage with Louis.’” Niall’s shit-eating grin was tormenting. “Zayn and Liam decided to take you each home separately to insure you didn’t make any stupid decisions drunk and then fuck this whole thing up before it even starts.”

Louis refused to lift his head from the table, scared his friends would be able to read his face more clearly than he can read his own thoughts. Harry wanted to sleep with him. Okay. That’s fine. He was drunk. People make lots of stupid choices when they’re drunk that they wouldn’t make sober. Like agreeing to _marry your very good friend_. So what if Harry’s eyes hold entire worlds and his hands are downright sinful and his lips are somehow always _so pink_. So what if his hair curls around his ears in the most adorable way possible and sometimes he wears those pants that stretch just right around his thighs and his body is this perfect mix of soft love handles and hard abs. It’s fine. 

Growing up practically glued to Zayn’s side, Louis developed a sort of tolerance to beautiful boys. It doesn’t faze him when Harry giggles and his cheeks get all bunched up or when Harry gets moody and his lips pout so prettily. Louis is completely unaffected by all that. _It’s fine_. Harry is just his very good friend who always knows how to make Louis laugh and has the kindest soul of anyone he’s ever met and makes a fry-up Louis wouldn’t mind having every morning for the rest of his life and he happens to be the concept of pure beauty personified. But all that is _completely fine_. That doesn’t mean Louis is in love with him or wants to _marry him_ , for God’s sake! And even if he were in love with Harry it’s a moot point. Harry is everyone’s dream spouse, no one could resist the Styles charm coupled with Harry being such a genuine person (and his looks don’t exactly hurt either). Harry could have anyone, it’s not like he’d pick Louis out of everyone. Louis knows he’s good looking, sure, and he’s nice enough and all that, but does he think he deserves Harry? Hell no! Harry is just his perfect friend, who happens to be everything Louis could possibly want in a spouse. And sure, Louis wouldn’t _hate_ being to married to Harry, he might even love it, but—wait. Fuck.

“Oh shit.” He looked up. “I love Harry.”

Zayn stood and wrapped his arms around Louis’ shoulders. “Yeah you do.”

“Don’t freak out Lou, he definitely feels the same way,” Niall reassured. 

“He said that?”

“Well, no, but—“

Louis let his head thunk back down to the table and groaned to drown out the rest of Niall’s sentence. He was in love with Harry. _Shit_.

That was the morning that changed everything.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!! Thank you to all of you who’ve read and left comments/kudos it’s very much appreciated! This chapter is basically all backstory, but I needed to set some stuff up for the upcoming chapters, so bare with me. This is a short one, but I’m hoping to have the third one up before Sunday to make up for it!

—  
Louis and Zayn have been inseparable since they left their respective wombs. Their mothers were best friends throughout college, maid of honor for one another, and luck had it so their pregnancies lined up enough for them to do a joint baby shower and attend a lamaze class together. Their children had absolutely no choice but to be best friends. Louis was born on the 24 of December and Zayn trailed after just a few weeks later on January 12.

They spent all of their childhood and teenage years creating as much chaos as possible in their small town of Brownsville, Vermont. They were the only queer kids in their class (the only ones who were out, at least) and spent every waking second together. Rumors about the two of them were rampent all through high school. None of them were true, of course, they were practically family. The idea of even kissing Zayn spends shivers through Louis’s body—and not the good kind.

When it came time to apply to colleges, the idea of leaving each other’s sides didn’t even come up. They applied to all the same schools, and chose out of the ones that had accepted them both. They ended up deciding on Boston College, far enough away to shed their small-town identities, but still close enough to visit their family. Zayn enrolled as a graphic design major and Louis as an English major with dreams to become a songwriter. 

August of their freshman year, they moved into a snug dorm and kissed their mothers goodbye while willing themselves not to cry on their first day at college. Across the hall, they found a boisterous Irishman who was new to America and eager to explore and drink. Louis and Niall made fast friends, and Zayn warmed up to him fairly quickly. His brash personality complemented Zayn’s zen for a perfect reaction: when Zayn was being too introverted, Niall forced him out of his shell, and when Niall’s energy began to border nuclear, Zayn diffused him. Louis was always happy with whatever vibe the two of them inadvertently decided on, enjoying a drunken night on the town just as much as a quiet evening in with Netflix and popcorn. 

Two weeks into the year, Zayn met a shy boy from Maine by the name of Liam in one of his general courses. He was quickly adopted into their group, what with Zayn never wanting to leave his side. Liam brought the missing sense of reason within the group. If it weren’t for him occasionally winning his fight to get them all to actually study, there’s a good chance they all would’ve flunked out before the second semester. As much as Louis would tease Liam and whine to Zayn about being replaced, he always had a bit of a soft spot for the boy. Zayn pretended not to know what he meant every time he asked, “Have you and Liam gotten your shit together yet?”, but would always give Louis a small smile, knowing this was his best friend’s way of letting him know he secretly approved of Liam. 

By October, their group of four was inseparable. They all felt comfortable walking into each other’s rooms unannounced and sleeping in the same beds (if Zayn and Liam did this more than anyone else, no one needed to know). Niall brought the fun, Liam brought the realism, Zayn brought the chill, and Louis tied it all up into the most beautiful bow of friendship. 

It was October 27 when they were all seated at a pub and Niall was—once again—loudly moaning about the American drinking age. 

“What’s the point? It’s a dumb rule. I’m an adult, I’m plenty old enough to decide if I want to kill off a few brain cells. More importantly, I’m Irish, I think it’s worse for me to not have beer! I’ll end up fading away without any alcohol, mark my words.”

The other three had heard this exact speech too many times to count at that point, and were content to let Niall shout until he was bored. They were all off in their own little worlds until an unfamiliar voice startled them back to reality. A British unfamiliar voice. A low, gravelly yet smooth, British, unfamiliar voice. Louis glanced over to the end of their booth where a boy with a chocolate mop of curls was commiserating with Niall. 

“It’s totally unfair. I drank all summer and now I’m expected to survive studying bloody pre-law without any drinks. Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Don’t encourage him, um,” Louis gestured for the stranger to fill in with his name. 

“Harry.”

“Harry,” Louis gave him a warm smile and earned one from the newcomer in return. “He’ll talk for hours about this particular subject.”

Harry grabbed a chair from a nearby table and plopped himself at the end of their booth. “I’ve got time.”

From then on, it was the five of them, together for better or worse. They all had other mutual friends and acquaintances that they’d see on occasion, but they always ended up coming back to their core group of five. Six years later and proper of-drinking-age adults, they were still as inseparable as they’d been freshman year. Louis and Zayn were still brothers; Liam and Harry shared a special bond that came from nowhere specific according to the others (it may have had something to do with Liam having an assumed unrequited crush Zayn and turning to Harry for comfort, who somehow knew _exactly_ how he was feeling); and Niall continued to play the role of everyone’s best friend and the life of the party. 

As they’ve grown up, their personal and professional lives have managed to entwine together strongly. Zayn and Liam got their act together sophomore year of college, and have been sickeningly in love ever since (and incredibly loud about it). Liam used his fancy computer science degree to get a job at a startup tech company right out of school, which ended up going far better than he dared to dream at the time. He could easily afford the high rise in Cambridge he shares with Zayn all on his own, if he wanted to. Him and Z share finances, however, and Liam is not the sole breadwinner. When Liam made it big, Zayn decided to pursue his passion for painting. His commissions quickly became some of the most highly demanded in the area. They’re apartment is filled with his work, much to his feigned annoyance. Liam will often make anonymous bids on the random works Zayn sells on occasion. Each time he undoubtedly wins every piece he bids on, he strolls into Zayn’s studio, grabs the painting (along with a kiss from his boyfriend), and attempts to find some useable wall space. They aren’t _technically_ engaged yet, but they both know they’re going to spend the rest of their lives together and eventually adopt two kids. They’re both adamant that they’re in no rush, however, Louis still asks when the wedding is on a weekly basis. He would quite like to stand next to Zayn in a tux while he vowed to spend the rest of his life with Liam. Louis looks good in a tux and weddings are always a good place to pull. Maybe not if he has his _own_ wedding ring on his finger, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Niall works in the sales division of a medical device company, his energetic personality makes sure he earns a healthy commission. His company’s building just so happens to be on the same block as Liam’s company, and the two of them have lunch together nearly everyday with Zayn often tagging along. Niall spends most of his free time with Hailee, his fiancé who had fit so seamlessly into their group they all swore the only reason they were friends with Niall was so that one day fate would lead her to their group. Their apartment is only slightly less lavish than Zayn and Liam’s. The couples often meet for double dinner dates and other lovey dovey couples crap. It’s cute, it’s fine. It’s just that Louis knows he wants at least four kids and he doesn’t want to be an old hag of a dad. So he needs to meet the love of his life like yesterday. And being married to his best friend (who he’s only a little bit in love with) isn’t gonna help. 

Speaking of Harry, he’s in about the same boat as Louis. Still single, except Harry’s in proper law school now with an internship at some big-shot firm that almost guarantees that he’ll be doing quite well for himself the second he’s done school. For now, he lives in a decent apartment in Somerville and saves his money for his bi-annual trips to England, one in the winter for the holidays, and one in the summer just because. 

Only one building over from Harry’s is where Louis lives. It hadn’t exactly been a plan, but when Harry went apartment hunting because he wanted to be closer to work and the building next to Louis’s happened to have an opening, he couldn’t _not_ take it. Louis works as an English teacher at a private school which means being at work by seven, but leaving at two, plus summers off and random weeklong breaks throughout the year. With Harry being so close, he spends most of his time off at Harry’s place, keeping him company while he studies and making sure he remembers to eat, sleep, and all together function outside of law school. They balance each other out. When one is stressed, the other is ready with back rubs and comfort food; when one is feeling restless, the other is already making plans for a bar crawl; when one just needs a quiet night in, the other is there with a fuzzy blanket to share and all of the John Hughes classics at the ready. They fit into each other’s lives like puzzle pieces. 

But back to the issue at hand, none of that means that should be _married_. It’s not like Harry has any romantic feelings towards Louis anyway! So after that horrible, whiplash-inducing morning, Louis decided he needed a way out of it. He needed to talk to Harry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I’m back! Okay wow, uh I know I’ve left this fic alone far too long and I apologize, but life got hectic for a bit and I had very little time to write and edit!! I’m not making any promises as to when the next chapter goes up, but I promise to keeping working on this fic whenever I can. 
> 
> As always, please leave a comment or kudos to let me know what you think! Happy reading!!

-October 18-

 

Louis is curled up on his sofa that smells of a too-familiar Tom Ford cologne that is simultaneously comforting and pure torture. Zayn has taken on the duty of foot massager like a champ, and is doing his best to relieve the tension that inhabits Louis’s entire body. Niall is seated on a chair adjacent to the couch looking abnormally serious.

 

“If you had just kept your stupid Irish mouth shut that morning, everything would have been fine! I wouldn’t have remembered that dumb fucking contract, Harry wouldn’t have brought it up, and nothing would’ve changed!” Louis lets out some sort of cross between a scream and a groan, that ends up being half muffled by the cushions when he rolls onto his stomach.

 

“How do you know Harry wouldn’t have said something?” Niall questions.

 

“It’s not like he ever _wanted_ to be married to me. Why would he have brought it up?”

 

Zayn and Niall give him the same skeptical look, which is more than a little unnerving. Louis stews in the silence and his own screaming thoughts for a few minutes. When he speaks again it’s around a lump in his throat and with wet eyes. “How did i manage to fuck things up this badly in six weeks?”

 

“Oh, babe,” Zayn mutters as he crawls up the couch to give him a cuddle. Niall gets up from his chair and piles on top of both of them while promising to fix this mess, no matter what. Louis isn’t sure he can believe him.

 

-August 31-

 

Louis had made the perfectly valid decision of spending the day he found out about his “engagement” wrapped in blankets on the couch and nursing his hangover with greasy food and Hugh Grant, courtesy of _Love Actually_ —which is absolutely okay to watch during the summer because even though it just so happens to take place around the holidays it is not explicitly a Christmas movie. He was _not_ hiding from his “fiancé” or the talk he knew they would have to have eventually. He was just curing his hangover before having to face Harry, the love of his lif—wait! No. His good friend Harry. Just his good friend Harry that he may sort of want to marry, but it’s not like it’s a big deal.

 

The point is: Harry most definitely does not want to spend the rest of his life with Louis, and Louis isn’t going to force him into a loveless marriage on a _dare_. He’ll take his rejection on the chin and smile through it. The morning after he finds out, he’s kind of (see: really really) hoping it was all some weird fever-dream. Unfortunately he woke up to a dozen messages from Niall and Zayn all along the lines of “You got this! Go get your boy!”

 

Louis appreciated their support, but knew he wouldn’t end up going along with any of the encouragement given to him. He wasn’t about to go make Harry ‘his boy’. He spent a lot of time in the shower, attempting to push off the inevitable. He’d just finished rinsing the shampoo from his hair when the sound of knocking traveled through the apartment. Louis nearly slipped as he climbed out of the shower, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist as he speed-walked to the door. He opened it in a rush, mildly concerned about his appearance and the fact that he hadn’t buzzed anyone into the building, so for all he knew there very well could have been a murderer in the hall. He had barely a second to hope he’s not found dead in his apartment in the nude, before he swung the door open to reveal Harry. He half-thought this might be worse than a murderer.

 

“Well, hello to you too,” Harry said through a smirk. Louis thought he might see Harry’s _green green_ eyes follow a drop of water down his chest. It’s probably just a trick of the light. “Are you planning on letting me inside, babe?”

 

Louis’s heart absolutely did _not_ pick up speed at the pet name. _It didn’t._ “Right, sorry, come in.” Louis stepped aside to allow Harry into the building, a little more flustered than usual given that he was only wearing a towel, which in retrospect _might_ be a bit too small. He tried to shake off his embarrassment, this is _Harry_. The same Harry that once cleaned up Louis’s vomit after a particularly bad night in junior year. He’d seen much worse of Louis. “How’d you get into my building?”

 

“I helped Mrs. Duncan carry in her groceries.” Harry’s dimple appeared. Louis fleetingly wondered what it’d be like to lick it, and then quickly shut down _that_ train of thought.

 

“You’re a real life Prince Charming, aren’t you? Just crawled right of Cinderella to make the rest of us look bad?”

 

“Oh please, I’d never choose who I’m going to marry based on one night of dancing,” Harry paused. Smirked. “I might on a dare, though.”

 

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Louis mumbled, massaging his temples with the hand that wasn’t holding up his towel. His towel, _right_ . Clothes are a thing. A thing that should be worn around _friends_. “I’m going to go get dressed.”

 

Harry pouted exaggeratedly. “Do you have to? I’m your _fiancé,_ I can see you naked. Lose the towel.”

 

“Knock it off,” Louis warned. Harry just giggled in response and waved him off to go get properly dressed. He spent too much time trying to decide if he should squeeze into his skinny jeans, before forcing himself not to dress nicely. _It’s_ _just Harry_. He left his room wearing his nicest pair of sweats, that may or may not cling to his ass perfectly, and a simple black tee. He found Harry seated on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Harry glanced up as Louis approached him. The moment he saw Harry’s eyes on him, he wondered if it was too much. His shirt was too shear, he should’ve just worn his ratty, unflattering sweats, Harry’s going to think he’s trying too hard, he’s going to be able to tell that Louis had recently realized his feelings for him. But then Harry met his eyes and he didn’t look like he’d noticed anything out of the ordinary. Louis suddenly couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.

 

He plopped himself down at the opposite end of the couch and placed his feet in Harry’s lap. Harry took it in stride, and even began rubbing them a bit, seemingly undisturbed by Louis’s aversion to wearing socks. Louis let his head fall back on the arm rest and closed his eyes. “I don’t deserve you,” he stated, perhaps a bit more earnestly than he should have.

 

Harry just smiled in response. There’s a minute or two of comfortable silence. Despite Louis only very recently coming to the life-altering realization that he’s kinda-sorta in love with one of his best friends, he’s still comfortable with Harry. It’s probably one of the reasons he fell for him in the first place. Harry’s mere presence can relax Louis in a way that no one else can. His train of thought was broken when Harry cleared his throat.

 

“So…” Harry grinned mischievously. “Have you always wanted to have a summer wedding?”

 

That startled a laugh out of Louis. It’s just such a _Harry_ thing to be thinking about in the given situation. “I love the way your brain works.”

 

“Well good, cause you’re going to be married to my brain for a little while,” Harry giggled .

 

“Am I?”

 

“Well yeah, we signed a contract and everything. I called Nick yesterday, ‘cause apparently he’s the one who held onto it. He said it’s all very legit.”

 

“How can it be legit? We were both smashed!”

 

“I mean it’s not exactly _legally binding_ but we put quite a bit of thought into it. It’d be a shame if it was all a waste.” Harry smiled coyly. Louis noticed that Harry has a lot of different smiles. They’re all very pretty. _Shit_.

 

“Alright.”

 

“Alright?” Harry asked almost hopefully. Or maybe Louis just wanted him to ask hopefully.

 

“Dare’s a dare, isn’t it?” Louis gave him a playful grin. Inside, however, he was terrified that Harry will reject him, say it’s all just a joke and there’s no way he’d ever marry Louis.

 

“Oh, thank god, I thought you would take more convincing.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“You’re stubborn as all hell, that’s why. Nick said our contract says the marriage has to last at least two months before we file for divorce ‘if we so choose.’ Apparently our drunk selves had faith in our long and healthy marriage.”

 

“You’re drunk self had faith in our sex life too,” Louis mumbled unthinkingly.

 

Pink bloomed on Harry’s cheeks. “You remember that, then?” Harry asked shyly.

 

“Well, no, but Niall told me about it.”

 

“Remind me to kill him later.” Harry paused, appearing to work out his thoughts. “I’m sorry, about that. It’s just...” He trailed off. Paused again. Sighed. “To be honest, I haven’t had time for dating recently, with the internship, and being in England most of the summer. And you know...I don’t like meaningless, one night stands. It’s been a while. Since the last time I... _you know_ . And I guess, the whole marriage thing put _it_ in my head. So…yeah. Sorry. And like, you know. You’re well fit and everything, so I guess drunk Harry decided he didn’t care that we’ve always just been friends. Cause like, if I met you at a pub or something... _I’dprobablyaskyouout_. So. Yeah. Sorry. Again.” The whole apology was rambling and slow, except for those last few words, which were strung together far too quickly. Louis is used to Harry’s bizarre speaking patterns by now, though, so he caught every bit.

 

“Oh. Um, yeah, no. It’s like...it’s fine.” Eloquent. “I mean, like I didn’t mind.” Louis winced at his wording. He quickly corrected. “Like, I knew you were drunk. So I didn’t put much stock in it. Not that I would! You know, ‘cause we’re just friends.”

 

Harry grinned like he was doing his best Cheshire Cat impression. “We’re not just friends, Lou.”

 

Louis’ heart was about to pound out of his chest. “We’re not?”

 

“Louis! I’m your _fiancé_ ,” Harry said like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

 

“Oh _piss off!_ ” Louis cackled. And just like that they were laughing, awkward moment completely forgotten. Their laughter eventually trailed off, and they both just smiled at each other.

 

“So when are we getting hitched?”

 

“This Friday?” Louis suggested.

 

“Sounds good. September 6. That’s our anniversary for now on, Lou make sure you remember it,” Harry said seriously.

 

“Are you planning on needing to remember our anniversary?”

 

“You never know,” Harry grinned again and winked. “You’re first day of the year is in a few days, right?”

 

Louis could feel his face light up. “Yeah, it is,” he responded. Louis always looked forward to the start of a new school year. New kids, new classes, new experiences.

 

“You must be excited,” Harry said.

 

“I am. I can’t wait to meet the new kids,” Louis spoke and rambled and gushed about how excited he was. About thirty minutes into his speech, he realized how long he’d been talking about something Harry didn’t have any real interest in. “Sorry, I’ve been talking for way too long. You should’ve stopped me.”

 

“No, I love when you talk about the school! You’re so passionate. You clearly care about those kids a lot. It’s sweet,” Harry said with his softest smile.

 

Louis blushed under Harry’s attention. “Thanks, Harry.”

 

Harry nodded and continued to stare at Louis fondly. After a few minutes he spoke, “Do you have dinner plans for tonight?”

 

“Nope. Why, you offering to take me out for our first date?” Louis asked cheekily.

 

“Well, I was hoping we could stay in. Eat pizza in our sweats and watch The Office. Jim Halpert is calling my name.”

 

“Oh my god that sounds perfect. Yes. Make that happen like immediately.” Louis nodded his head fervently.

 

“I’ll call the pizza place, you queue up The Office on Netflix?”

 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

Harry ordered their usual, half pineapple and olive for Harry and the other half with pepperoni for Louis. The settle in on the couch again, with Louis’ feet taking their place in Harry’s lap. They watched one episode and bickered about which one of them is more like Jim (Louis is definitely Jim), before the pizza arrived. Harry payed the pizza guy, and placed it on Louis’s coffee table. He took a seat on the couch again, this time sitting right next to Louis so they could share the table. Louis and Harry were pressed together from knee to shoulder, and Louis suddenly found it much harder to concentrate on the show. Every time Harry fidgeted or took a deep breath, Louis could feel it. After another episode was finished, Harry dropped his fourth piece of crust, he slouched against the couch with his arms spread across the back.

 

“Ugh, I’m stuffed!”

 

Louis swallowed his last piece of crust, and groaned out his agreement. He fell back against the couch as well, only realizing that Harry’s arms were there when he felt his neck brush Harry’s forearm. Louis told himself not to tense up, him and Harry had cuddled countless times. Harry wrapped his arm fully around Louis’s shoulders and pulled him snuggly into his side. This was _normal_. Louis focused on breathing and not jerking into or away from Harry’s touch. Just stay still. Perfectly still.

 

“Louis? You seem tense. Do you want me to give you a shoulder massage or something?” Harry asked, his voice and face full of concern. God, he was perfect.

 

“Um, y-yeah that sounds nice,” Louis managed to stutter out. Louis got positioned on the floor between Harry’s legs. Harry brought his _large_ hands up to Louis’s shoulders and began rubbing. _Shit. Nope. No. Abort._ Louis could feel his body relax under Harry’s ministrations, but his mind was becoming further deranged by the second. Harry was just very good with his hands, okay? It led to certain thoughts. And maybe Louis shouldn’t be thinking those thoughts about his _friend_.

 

Harry’s hands began moving further down before he spoke, “Lou, do you want to lay down so I can reach your lower back?”

 

“S-sure.” Damn it. The stuttering had to stop. _It’s just Harry._

 

Louis laid down on his stomach across the carpet. He heard Harry stand from the couch and then felt a weight settle across his thighs. _Right, so Harry was straddling him then._ Louis may have not thought this all the way through. Harry’s hands were still magic though, and they released all the tension in his back. Louis unthinkingly let out a tiny moan at the feeling. Suddenly, Harry was up and no longer anywhere near Louis. _Shit_.

 

Louis peeled himself off the floor with a heavy weight in his chest. Harry was back up on the couch looking more uncomfortable than Louis had ever seen him. _Well maybe that’s because Louis had just been moaning like a freak while Harry was just trying to give him a friendly massage. This could not get worse._ Louis looked at Harry and braced himself for whatever was to come.

 

“Lou, I am so sorry,” Harry said quietly. And. Wait. That is _not_ what Louis had expected.

 

“What do you mean? No, Harry I’m sorry!”

 

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for? You were just enjoying your massage and then I had to go and…” Harry trailer off awkwardly.

 

“I’m so confused. Why are _you_ apologizing?”

 

“You know…” Harry avoided eye contact and raised his eyebrows.

 

“No I don’t know…” Louis was confused. This was confusing. Why was Harry apologizing? What’s going on?

 

Harry perked up a bit. “Oh. You don’t. So...okay. We’re just gonna leave it at that then, forget that moment just happened, okay?”

 

“...Okay. Sure.” Louis was still confused, but if they were forgetting the whole thing anyway then oh well, _c’est la vi_ and all that. Louis sat down on the couch again, but made sure to put a bit of distance between himself and Harry this time. That was when he noticed that the other man had a blanket draped across his body. “Are you chilly, Haz? I’m sweating, how could you possibly need a blanket right now?”

 

“I get cold easily. Shut up and watch the show.”

 

Harry could change the subject all he wanted, but Louis knew better. He knew that Harry had a natural warmth to him and that Louis himself was actually the one that tended to require extra blankets. He’d been acting a bit strange all night, from the overly flirtatious banter to the sudden apologies and now the out-of-character coldness.

 

“Do you think you’re getting sick, Haz? I don’t have anything to make soup, but I could run out and get some,” Louis was ready to stand and head for the shops, but Harry stopped him with a hand on his thigh. _Oh_.

 

“That’s very sweet, but seriously, I’m fine. Ignore me.” Harry smiled and instantly put Louis back at ease. They both settled back into the cushions, they’re shoulders barely brushing one another. By the time the next episode started, they were both sound asleep.


End file.
